


I'm sorry, Father

by excusethedisorder



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 18:38:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excusethedisorder/pseuds/excusethedisorder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa got sloppy and made a mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm sorry, Father

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marquise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marquise/gifts).



> This is my first fanfic ever, nothing too dirty but I enjoyed writing it!  
> Thanks to tumblr user apprenticemockingbird for reading and giving me feedback.
> 
> I do not own any of the characters, GOT or ASOIAF.

She bit her lip and slowly looked up into his piercing eyes. “I’m sorry, Lord Baelish.”

“ _Father_.”

His tone was chilling.

“I’m sorry, Father.” Sansa prayed to the Gods he would dismiss her and send her to her chambers now that she had apologized. But Petyr was far from done.

“Do you understand what you have done? The consequences your action might bring upon you? Upon me?” His voice was quiet but Sansa could feel the anger behind the words.

She closed her eyes, feeling the tears starting to prick. It had been an accident! Last night, a grand feast was held in the Eyrie and she had drank a bit too much of that delicious honeyed wine. Red faced and giggling, she had forgotten she was Alayne Stone, bastard daughter of Lord Baelish, and had talked about how much she loved playing with her pet wolf before she went to King’s Landing. Sansa knew it was a grave mistake, but everyone was so drunk, surely no one would remember! She felt like a fool and blushed even more as she felt Petyr’s eyes wandering on her body. She barely had the courage to draw in a breath.

“It was stupid of me, Father. I was drunk and…” Her voice faltered and came to a stop. Petyr took a step towards her, his voice still cold as ice.

“You disappoint me greatly, Alayne.”

Sansa felt as though she had been stabbed through the heart. Petyr watched her as she involuntarily stepped back, obviously hurt by what he had said. He felt a smile creep up his face but he knew better than to show it. Watching her standing there, tears in her eyes and looking oh so vulnerable gave him great satisfaction. She looks lovely like that, he thought. Almost subconsciously, Petyr drew yet closer to Sansa.

She was almost against the wall now, and she felt more powerless than ever. All she wanted was to make Lord Baelish happy, but he always seemed angry with her.

“Look at me.” Slowly, she raised her eyes up to Petyr’s and for an instant she swore she saw a fleeting taint of lust into his gaze.  
Petyr closed in the distance remaining between the both of them. His hand caught a loose strand of hair and tucked it back. He leaned in, inches away from her, and whispered in her ear.

“This better not happen again, am I clear?” She swallowed with difficultly and managed a small nod. The proximity of Petyr’s body and the lingering headache from a night of drinking made it almost impossible for her to think properly.

“It won’t, my lord.”

Petyr grasped a handful of hair and pulled back roughly, exposing her sweet jawline and delicate neck.

“ _Father_.” He said through gritted teeth.

Sansa couldn’t help but gasp at the sudden aggressiveness. She was about to answer him when she felt his other hand grip her side, pulling her to him, and then his mouth was on hers, crushing it angrily. For a split second, Sansa gave into the kiss, feeling his neatly trimmed beard pricking her face and the faint hint of mint on his breath.  
Petyr broke the embrace and calmly stepped away from her.

“You may return to your chambers now, Alayne. I will take care of this.”

Trembling and breathless, Sansa nodded meekly and turned towards the door.

“Thank you, Father.” She tried to make her voice sound calm but all it did was betray her emotion. She opened the door gently and disappeared into the hallway.

Petyr turned to his chair, mentally berating himself for not controlling his urges, but a very satisfied smirk on his face.


End file.
